


Memento

by sailaway



Series: My Yautja Boyfriend [6]
Category: Alien vs Predator (2004), Aliens vs Predators Series - Various Authors, Predator Original Series (1987-1990), Predators (2010)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Interspecies, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Yautja
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-18
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2019-07-14 03:34:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16032134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailaway/pseuds/sailaway
Summary: "Why so many questions about my homeworld? Are you missing your own?"In which a yautja gets his human a present.





	Memento

**Author's Note:**

> Alternate summary: innocent fluff and headcanon dumping time! Can be read solo.

* * *

 

 

 

“Solar?”

He made a _brr_ of response, even huskier than usual in that space between slumber and waking. He had one arm flung over his eyes, his placid breathing like the rumbling of a sleeping tiger. 

“What is your homeworld like? Yautja Prime?”

He was no longer fazed by Kate's out-of-the-blue questions, and didn't move his arm or indicate he had heard at all.

“It's not so large as Earth. Maybe two thirds the size,” he at last responded. “The planet is belted by a wide swath of jungle with volcanic desert at each pole. Most cities are located in the transition zone between biomes, so as to be comfortably close to the forests but also to take advantage of the lava flows, which are harnessed to generate energy. It orbits a trinary star system, and possesses a loose rocky ring – ”

“I know all that from the data banks. What's it _like?_ ”

Finally he let his arm fall to the side, drawing himself up into a half-reclining position against the headboard and blinking away the last cobwebs of sleep.

“It's a trinary star system,” he repeated, pondering this time. “So the day cycles are long, and the twilight phase also. The nights do not get much cooler than the days, and the seasons are temperate. Lesser so in the deserts, though.” He pulled a face of barely concealed disdain. “They are technically habitable, but the air is dry and unpleasant to breathe, and the only vegetation is sparse scrub. There is large and formidable prey that dwells there, the _q_ _uatza-rij;_ difficult game, owing both to its fierceness and the climate the hunters must endure. Thus it is typically tackled in groups of three.”

“Have you taken a _quatza-rij?_ ”

“I was part of a group, so I gained a share of the triumph, but the actual prize went to another. With _quatza-rij_ it can be hard to tell the precise moment of death, since usually it must be worn down over a period of time. Though on this occasion I know the killing blow was not mine.”

He fell silent, but she could sense he wasn't finished, just thinking.

“In the jungles it rains frequently. Often at night. The treetops are misty in the mornings.” His voice had taken on an uncharacteristic faraway quality, thoughtful and slow. “The canopy is tall, with many twisting and spreading branches, but not so dense so as to block out all light. It shines through the leaves in many patterns. The air is very... full with wetness.”

“Humid?”

“Humid,” he agreed. Given the ship's air conditions, it was an easy guess. “Depending on where you are on the planet, the ring around it subtly glitters, and sometimes there is so much water vapor in the air the ring is smudged into a halo of light.”

“That sounds beautiful.” She tucked herself into his side. His arm came naturally around her to toy with the ends of her hair. “How long since you were there?”

He had to tally it up in his mind. “Thirty-one spans? Thirty-two?”

“Is that considered a lot?”

“It's not uncommon. Remember that not every yautja is born and raised on Yautja Prime. Perhaps only half. And many who are join their clanships upon maturity, as I did, and have no frequent need to return.”

“Tell me about your home, then. Where you grew up.”

“The city is in a valley,” he began. “The residence was in the hills above, among others like it. My bearer and two of her sisters lived there.” His eyes flicked, tracing its structure and lines in his memory. He held up his thumbs and forefingers into L shapes, flipping one hand and touching his claw tips together to make a rectangle. “The building was shaped like so. Four sides around an open space. Trees in the courtyard. From the front entry you could see above the rooftops to the river winding around the citadel, shining in the suns like a metal coil.”

“Do you ever miss it?”

He seemed to be giving it great consideration. “No.”

“Not at all?”

“It is the native land of my race, and I respect it for that. But I have not thought of it as my home in a long time. Though there are things I find preferable about it, or any appropriate planet. Natural light, openness and space. Air that is not recycled.” Solar didn't often talk so much all at once. His voice was low and rolling as he wove between her language and his. “The insects are very loud at night. I did not realize how much so until I left. It unnerved me for a long while, since the only time the jungle falls silent is when danger is near. Now I can sleep anywhere. But if I had a choice between silence and sounds, it would be for the latter.”

He angled his head down at her. “Why so many questions? Are you missing your own planet?”

“I'm just curious! I want to know what your home is like.” Kate tongued the inside of her cheek, then admitted, “Maybe. Not most of the time, but sometimes... ”

“What do you miss?”

“Off the top of my head? Nothing in particular.” Her extensive travels on Earth had accustomed her to living without favorite snacks or creature comforts, but now she may as well be the proverbial rube who'd never left her hometown. Things here were hard around the edges, everything bigger and more intense, often fascinating but also vast and overwhelming. Each time she dared to think she getting the hang of it, she was rudely corrected. Not long ago an adolescent flipped her skirt up after passing in the corridor, proclaiming himself curious to see what was beneath and well aware she could do nothing to rebuke him. She'd yelled, he'd laughed, Solar had thrashed him bloody for his impudence, and nobody observing seemed the slightest bit perturbed by the violence. “When everything around me is unfamiliar, and I always have to be thinking and translating and conscious of it and on my toes...”

She lapsed into quiet again, an easy and effortless quiet he did not break, and it was in this companionable repose that each drifted back into their own thoughts.

 

 

* * *

 

 

“What is that?”

In response the trader hoisted the woven basket by the handle so Solar could see the contents better. In the depths he could make out a tiny dark animal, with baleful slitted eyes in a shade not far from his own.

“Couldn't say,” the other yautja shrugged, jarring the basket with her elbow in an attempt to make the creature move. “It eats meat. You asked for something from Terra, and this is all I have. No market for that kind of thing. My crewmate Yande has several _ooman_ firearms he might be convinced to sell... could be a diverting gift for a pup, if you've got any?”

The expansive trade ship had docked for repairs early this morning, and Solar wanted to take advantage of the flurry of buying and selling and bartering before the best items were gone. He had something specific in mind. Or, rather, nothing specific at all, but of a particular provenance.

“It looks to be a feeble creature,” he deliberated. He said so aloud as part of the haggling process, but it wasn't untrue. “What is it for?”

“I got it from a mercenary,” the trader said. “Who won it in a dice game. She gave it to her little son, but he found it boring, so she threw it into a swap we made and I wound up with it. Supposedly it can keep pests away, which seems an uncivilized method of cleanliness, but I suppose it's none of my business how people maintain their living space – ”

“I have no use for such a thing. But may I borrow it?”

She let fly with a hearty scoff. “Borrow?”

“It is no valuable commodity,” Solar reasoned. “You will have it back by the end of the cycle.” He fished in the pouch at his belt, retrieving half a dozen credit chips. “For your time. It's more than the nothing it would earn you sitting in the back of your stall.”

“Nine chips,” the trader countered.

“Seven.”

“Eight.”

“Seven.”

And that is how Solar left the hangar with the basket in hand, bumping against his thigh and weighing as little as if it was empty.

 

 

* * *

 

 

Kate had been in the washroom when he'd left, and she was still dressing when he returned to their chambers.

“I have something for you,” he announced, setting the basket on the table.

“Something? What kind of something?” She straightened her shirt as she descended the pair of steps into the living area, and tentatively leaned forward to squint into the basket. Then she gasped, and her mouth formed a round O, and for a moment Solar thought she was dismayed – but then he recognized the bright spark in her eyes and the crinkling at their corners and realized it was, in fact, excitement.

“Oh my God.” She must be pleased indeed to invoke a deity. “You have a kitten.”

“Kitten?” he questioned. But she had already seized the basket and bore it away to the couch, where she sat down and unlatched the lid. She made a kissing noise with her lips, followed by extraordinarily high-pitched words in her own language he could not parse, and as he watched she reached into the basket and pulled out the animal.

It was smaller than he had guessed on first examination, with tiny prick ears and tawny speckles on a black coat. Kate ran a knuckle over its round little head, and the stroke elicited a squeak from it; then her features crumpled, and she tucked the thing under her chin. Such movements indicated acceptance, but still her eyes were forming water, and Solar swiftly crossed the room and knelt at her side.

“If you are displeased I can remove it – ”

“No!” she protested, her retort giving way to a beaming smile. “I'm happy.”

“What is this kitten?”

“A kitten is a cat. A baby cat. This one is, hmm, three or four months old?” She twirled the tail around her finger. “Have you ever hunted a big one on Earth, like a lion, or a leopard? They look similar, but house cats are much smaller. They're pets.”

She held the kitten out, her hand splayed under its belly so its legs and tail hung down and he could look it over properly. The silhouette sparked a vague recollection of a similar animal – perhaps he had seen an image at some point – but nothing he could place.

“Why do _oomans_ keep them? Do they serve a function, or are they decorative?”

“People used to keep them around to catch vermin,” Kate explained. She manipulated one paw, and showed him the five curving claws extending from the fluffy and innocent-looking foot. “But now they're just for companionship.”

The animal did not look quite so alarmed now, warming to Kate's gentle handling. She paused suddenly, tipping her head towards the kitten, and joy wreathed her features. “Listen. Can you hear that? Here – ”

She balanced the kitten against herself with one hand and reached for Solar with the other, and before he knew it the thing had been foisted on him. It fit readily into his single cupped palm. Despite its diminutive proportions it had characteristics of a hunter, and he wanted to examine its teeth, so with his thumb he pushed back the kitten's lip to see needle-sharp white fangs. It recoiled, hissing at him.

“It is brave for its size,” he noted with begrudging and amused admiration. “How large does it grow?”

“You can't use a house cat for hunting, if that's what you're thinking. They only get about this big.” She spread her hands to indicated an approximate size, and he grumbled in skeptical disappointment.

“Be nice to her,” she admonished. “Pet her.”

Solar considered, then copied what he had seen Kate do, running a finger along the animal's head and downy back. It did nothing much, and Kate nodded to indicate he should do it again. He continued petting it, wondering what they were waiting for, when the kitten began, very faintly, to purr.

Solar startled, and chirruped in surprise.

“Like you,” Kate grinned.

The vibration ran through the whole creature's body. Solar held it at eye level, looking closely at it.

“Why does it make this sound at me? What does it want?”

“Cats don't purr quite the same way yautja do, it's not a conscious vocalization – it's a reflex, when they feel comfortable and happy.” Kate leaned forward, her expression lighting up. “Now you do it.”

“Purr to this animal?”

“Yes! I want to see what she does.”

“If you wish,” he relented doubtfully. He rose off his knee and sat next to Kate, frowning as she pushed him into repose against the couch's back and relocated the ball of fur between his pectorals. Its claws came out to steady itself, pricking his skin, and its sinuous tail stuck straight up in the air. But after a moment it found its balance and, feeling deeply foolish, Solar began to purr.

The kitten did not respond right away, but then it started to purr in earnest again, like a miniature engine on his chest. Its blinking became slow and heavy, and after a moment it settled onto him with its feet tucked under it so that it looked completely legless.

Kate's face was making odd contortions, but again Solar could tell by her eyes that these expressions were positive ones. Very positive.

“Oh my God,” she repeated. Yes, she was happy indeed. “This is the best thing I've ever seen.”

“It pleases you?” he queried.

“You have no idea.” She folded her legs to her body and wrapped her arms around them, resting her chin on her knees and staring in rapture at him and the kitten. And in that instant Solar knew he could not return it to the trade ship as agreed.

“You may take it,” he said, shifting toward her to indicate she take the animal. But she shook her head, the corner of her mouth tugging up.

“You can't get up when a cat is on you. It's a rule.”

“That is a strange custom.” But he did not want to offend, so he reclined back against the couch again.

Who ever heard of keeping such a pointless creature? He was both too young and too old to be turning so soft in allowing it to invade his chambers. But Kate's adjustment to such foreign circumstances was commendable, and this token from her life before was such a trifle...

“I have two Terran pets now,” he concluded with exaggerated slyness. While the kitten's presence served as a shield to spare him any physical repercussions, Kate still made an exasperated _tsk_ as he continued, “If I am to be trapped here you must go pay the trader the rest of what I owe. If you don't do so by the end of the cycle she will think me a thief.”

Lines appeared between Kate's brows. He knew she liked visiting the market sector, but not alone, since she found the myriad currencies confusing and the bartering slang difficult to grasp.

“It's not _really_ a rule,” she conceded. “You can put her down if you want to.”

It was not a hardship to have the creature on him, he acknowledged to himself. And Kate clearly liked the sight of it thus. But she relieved him of the kitten, setting it tenderly down on the floor, where it stretched with remarkable flexibility and peered around the room.

“We have to get a litter box,” she mused. “And something suitable as a scratching post.”

“I don't know what either of those things are,” he stated frankly.

“It's a really big ship. Who knows what's lurking in storage.” Kate's body language was buoyant and, despite his reservations about this kitten business, when she squeezed his fingertips in gratitude and tore her bright eyes away from the animal to focus on him he decided this small sacrifice was worth it. “I think I'm pretty resourceful. I'll sort out something.”

“I am expected on my shift. But first come with me,” Solar prompted, drawing her to his side. Her fit there was so intuitive, the quirk of her smile vibrant and trusting and content. “We will pay the trader in full, and then you can locate the... supplies you need. Whatever they are.”

With her face half hidden in his chest she bumped him with her hip. "You're such a gentleman."

“I do not know what that is, either.”

“It's good. It means - oh, it's hard to explain, it doesn't matter what it means.”

“Hmm. I am not a man, but I suppose I can be 'gentle'... sometimes.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you can.”

 

 

* * *

 

 


End file.
